Old Habits
by fiftyshadesfreak
Summary: Even after ten years, Christian still finds himself smitten with one particular thing Ana does...ONE-SHOT.


**A/N: Just a short One-shot scene that I couldn't get outta my head! Decided to just post it while I work on some longer, bigger stuff in the meantime. Enjoy J**

"Christian," Ana gasps underneath me, her voice impatient and winded. The sound of my name coming from her lips sends a jolt through me, my blood pounding faster and excitement coursing through me, going straight to my crotch.

I hold myself above her, each hand planted flat on the bed beside her head as I duck my face into the crook of her neck, kissing and licking. Taking my time.

I let my teeth graze her earlobe, and rock my erection into the soft flesh between her legs, the skin still protected by both of our jeans, creating a deliciously frustrating barrier.

I go slow, making the journey down her neck, her unbuttoned blouse still lying beneath her on the mattress.

Her breath quickens in response as I drop lower, parting my lips as I plant soft, wet kisses all the way down.

Unlike the rest of our clothes, my shirt is laying somewhere on the floor behind us, tossed to the floor by Ana as soon as things heated up. I run the tip of my nose over her soft skin, inhaling the enticing, sweet smell of her, getting lost in it.

Her hands are resting on the bare skin on my hips, and her fingers tighten their hold on me when I open my mouth and let the very end of my tongue trail down her sternum, unable to resist tasting the source of such a fragrance.

I move one of my hands, shifting down onto my opposite elbow and making my body press into her further. Seeing the clasp in the front of her bra, instead of the back, I use just a snap of my fingers to release it.

Letting the material fall to either side, I'm met with the sight of my wife's creamy breasts in front of my face. I feel myself harden further, and I grinding against her again. She moans, her fingernails digging into the skin at my hips, the feeling somehow erotic.

I kiss the swell of her left breast, bringing my hand to her waist. I continue kissing, moving all around her chest and sternum, but being careful to avoid her nipples – teasing, building the anticipation.

It works. Ana releases the softest of whimpers, her fingers tugging with frustration on my belt loops.

I nip the sensitive skin at the top of one breast, moving my hand from her waist, trailing it up toward the opposite one.

"Christian," Ana says again, needy, as she squirms beneath me.

"Patience," I breathe, talking to both her and myself as I fight the urge to rip off her clothes and take her right now.

_It hasn't happened yet. _I'm still waiting for it…

My hand meets her breast, cupping it and giving a gentle squeeze as I continue to tease her other with my mouth. She fits my hand perfectly.

I roll one nipple between my fingers as I finally reach the other with my mouth, kissing it softly.

Ana moans, arching into me so that every soft curve of her body presses into all the hard angles of mine. The feeling is indescribable. Heat courses through my veins as I bring my mouth over her nipple.

She moans again, and her hands travel up the bare skin of my back, her fingers grasping uselessly as they try to find purchase, getting higher and higher…

Anticipation tenses my body as I can sense it coming…

I roll her nipple in my mouth, grazing it between my teeth as excitement makes me move faster.

Her hands are still gripping my back wildly as I remove my mouth, and start kissing my way to the other one.

She moves her legs, wrapping them around my hips suddenly, making me press into her further, inciting the worst yet best friction possible. All the while, she gasps for breath and her hands continue to travel further north, going up and up…

I lavish her other breast, still waiting…

Finally, her fingers reach my shoulders, moving upward still…

I drop lower, moving onto her abdomen now, giving the skin there the same attention.

Her legs tighten around me.

_Here it comes…_I fight the urge to smile triumphantly.

Sure enough, her fingers find their final destination, pushing up onto my head and grabbing a fistful of my hair.

She pulls on it gently yet firmly, sending the message of her impatience and eagerness loud and clear. I let my eyes slide closed, relishing the feeling.

"Christian, please," she pants, her hands now securely locked around my hair, not moving.

She gives a stonger, rougher pull this time, and I can't stop the little moan of appreciation I release, muffled by my lips being against her. I nip the skin under my mouth, rocking harder into her in response.

It's stunning to me that she's always been able to do this to me – do everything that drives me wild. Without even realizing it.

This started years ago, when her hands in my hair was the first touch I had allowed from a woman who didn't know the boundaries.

Back when I wouldn't let her touch me – her hands had nowhere else to go but my face. My hair…

But now, after almost ten years of the boundaries disappearing – ten years of her being able to touch wherever and however she wants – this one particular touch still drives me more insane than any other.

In the beginning, I worried that she would stop – once her hands had other places to touch. But thankfully, it became a solid habit. Her hands will invariable find their place in my hair. And I will invariably enjoy every little pull and tug. Every time. It never gets old. Never ceases to turn me on.

Even though I've never said such out loud, I suspect that she somehow knows it – because she uses it, teases me with it all the time. At least that's how it seems.

As if she can read my mind, her hands tighten again, pulling against my scalp as my tongue reaches her belly button.

And that's it. The final tug is my undoing.

_Fuck delayed gratification. _ I decide, reaching for the button of her jeans.


End file.
